


A Fisher of Fish.

by Angelicasdean



Series: Walk the path of a sinner, meet the dues of the devil. [2]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Father-Son Relationship, Fishing, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Our cowboy being a softy, Swimming, Young Arthur Morgan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 19:31:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20013631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelicasdean/pseuds/Angelicasdean
Summary: PART TWOThe morning had been hot, and Arthur had taken it upon himself to help around camp. It was one of those days, where there was virtually nothing to do. Arthur had awoken to Isaac throwing sticks at a tree, bored out of his mind it seemed.





	A Fisher of Fish.

Isaac Morgan is eight years old, and with enough fishing skills that he can officially hook and reign in a fish alone. Or so Arthur advertises loudly.

The morning had been hot, and Arthur had taken it upon himself to help around camp. It was one of those days, where there was virtually nothing to do. Arthur had awoken to Isaac throwing sticks at a tree, bored out of his mind it seemed. And so, Hosea had announced that he was taking the kid to try and teach him fishing, after two failed attempts that is.

But it seemed that the hours he put in finally did something because when Hosea had returned, Isaac had been bouncing around. Hosea had barely stopped the horse before the young boy had jumped down and rushed to Arthur, a fish in his hands. It was a Bluegill, barely bigger than Isaac's fist, but it had brought the little boy joy and he had paraded it in such a way that Arthur couldn't help but feel like it's the best damn thing he'd ever seen. He was damn well proud, and he wasn't shy to show it. 

It was a nice change, too.

The week had been tough on all of them, Isaac had been iffy with the new camp, after the unfortunate shoot out with Caine's gang and the hell they've risen had followed them two states over. But they've managed to hide away well enough. Still, the little boy didn't like the hasty way Arthur had collected the gang, didn't help that John was talking about all the men they killed, loud enough that everyone can listen and know the trouble they're in. He had cried and huffed as Arthur packed their things, it didn't help Arthur's state of mind, he was panicked and on edge and Isaac was an inconvenience as he tried to get the gang moving.

Thankfully, before anything Arthur would regret happened, Hosea and Dutch had ridden back and Isaac was taken under Hosea's wings while Arthur set out to clear out their paths and tie up their loose ends. 

The tension between the gang had stayed until the news of Caine falling had reached them. Arthur had ridden back with John and Javier, bloodied but happy. Caine was dead, John had shot him straight through the head, Arthur and Javier had burned his body. They were free, for the moment. Arthur was still tired, doing extra jobs around the camp to help settle it, Isaac had demanded his attention and Arthur could not supply it, it got to the point where Isaac was bored enough that he had reserved himself to follow his father as he took the camp's needs and sent them off with John, followed him while Arthur helped Grimshaw. He felt bad for the kid, a nagging voice in the back of his mind always repeating that he's not doing by him right, that he deserved better.

But those thoughts didn't echo with the rest of the gang, Arthur couldn't spare time for his family, couldn't go fishing with Isaac without Bill or David coming to get them back, couldn't go into town without Javier telling him there's a job, always running in a circle, and when Arthur's done working, usually Isaac is asleep in their tent, curled in Arthur's bed with his Mother's toy or it was too late for them to do anything but sit and read the same books they always did. And that had always broken Arthur's heart, always made him sink into guilt faster than quicksand. He had talked to Hosea about it, ranting one night, tipsy, angry and sad, an entire fool. Hosea had taken Isaac in the early morning, Arthur had woken to find him dressing eagerly, only managing to say he's going out with Grandpa and placing a wet kiss on Arthur's cheek before he's disappearing out of the tent. And from then on, whenever Hosea noticed Isaac particularly lonely, an activity always pops up that would distract the little boy. 

Today, Isaac wanted to cook the fish himself, Arthur was happy enough to teach him how to clean it. He sat beside him and taught him when to know when the fish is ready, and he was no fool, he knows Isaac is barely registering what he's saying but the kid seemed to enjoy it as much as he enjoys bedtime stories. Even if he wasn't necessarily understanding what he was being told, he listens raptly with an undeserved awestruck expression.

"You like it, Isaac?" Arthur asks, Isaac turns to him with a small confused frown, "Fishing, you like fishing?"

"yeah," Isaac replies, a grin splitting his face, "It's boring at first, but Grandpa let me throw stones while he hooked the fishes," he explains, "He says I've got a good arm,"

"He did?" Arthur asks, a smile gracing his face, Isaac nods dramatically, smiling up at his father as he passes him another piece of fish, "Say, you want to go swimming tomorrow?" Arthur suggests. He had taken an extra step this time, asking Dutch for the morning off, with the promise of a night filled with work and errand running, he knows it'll be exhausting but the happy expression Isaac reflects his way is worth it a hundred times over.

"Yeah!" he squeals happily, stuffing another piece of fish between his teeth.

* * *

In the early morning, Arthur takes Isaac to the nearby lake. He had taught the boy a bit about swimming, more than he had managed with John, anyway. He had planned for the day to be purely for fun, only him and Isaac. Some well-deserved bonding time they'd missed out on in the past few weeks.

Isaac was only 2 when Arthur had found out that he adored the water. He doesn't swim as much as he sits in it and watches the small fish, Arthur doesn't mind, sitting is relaxing enough and Isaac had entertaining stories to tell about the local wildlife he had noted around camp.

Arthur thought about teaching him hunting, it's a skill that's important for survival, but Isaac is still a child, only eight, a rifle would probably knock his feet from under him, he thinks maybe Horse riding, but he's not tall enough to reach the stirrups, though Isaac already has Cleopatra's loyalty, spoilt her enough that Arthur is not her favorite anymore, and to think the Turkoman liked him.

Isaac can read well, his handwriting is sloppy but he's still young and God knows Arthur's handwriting was shit when he first learned to write. Curiously, Isaac had taken to reading. For his birthday, he had picked out a big book about herbs. Most of the words were too big for him to understand, but slowly, day by day, he got better at reading about and distinguishing between herbs. Whenever he spent too much time slumped over the large book, Arthur forced him to do some small chores, like helping Grimshaw with the laundry and playing with the horses while Javier feeds them. 

"What do you want to do, when you grow up?" Arthur asks as Isaac leans against him, the sun is high and they're still in the water, it's cool against them but the heat seems to have drained Isaac.

"I wanna be like you," Isaac replies, settling more comfortably against Arthur's side. Arthur lets himself feel warm for a moment before shaking his head.

"You can't be, sweetheart," Arthur says gently, threading his fingers in Isaac's blond hair, thick like his mothers, but lacking her bright brown color. 

"Why not?" Isaac asks stubbornly, "Your work looks so _nice_ , you ride horses and hunt animals and fish and play with guns and play poker, it sounds really fun," Isaac argues and Arthur smiles softly, reminded again, not that he ever forgot, that Isaac is but a little child and that his view of the world is shielded, "And if I'm like you, I'll be a strong man," Isaac puffs his chest slightly as he speaks, "I'll be able to protect my family," he adds, deflating against Arthur's side, head sinking a bit.

Arthur turns to him with a frown, Isaac meets his eyes with a pout, "Sweetheart?" Arthur says calmly and Isaac shakes his head dismissively, "Now, Isaac, you can talk to me," Arthur soothes and Isaac shakes again, crossing his arms, "We talked about this, you can tell me anything you want, I never judge"

"No," He insists and Arthur sighs, against his words, Isaac starts speaking, "I saw you, Pa, I saw you,"

"Saw me do what?" Arthur asks, frowning a bit as Isaac shakes his head. Saw him kill? that would be horrible. He always made sure to clean up and deal with their work as far away as possible from him, did he slip up somewhere? "Tell me what's wrong,"

"You were sad!" Isaac shouts, pout becoming more prominent, "I saw you cry, about Mamma, you were _sad_!"

Arthur pieces together the puzzle Isaac was saying.

Oh...

_Oh_

"Oh, sweetheart," Arthur sighs, opening his arms as an invitation and as usual, Isaac sinks between them with a splash, face plastered against Arthur's skin as he trembles slightly, "That wasn't your fault," Arthur consoles. He _did_ slip up, just not where he expected. He was relieved that Isaac still doesn't know about the nature of his work, but there's stabbing guilt in his chest. Sure, he was a mess briefly after Eliza's passing, but he had tried to turn Isaac away from his messy breakdowns. He had always disappeared into Dutch's tent or taken an impromptu ride somewhere. He rakes his mind, trying to find when Isaac could have possibly seen him cry. 

"I should have helped her, Pa," Isaac says quietly, settling down as he slowly calms.

"You tried, sweetheart, you did good," Arthur promises, placing a hand against his son's back, Isaac relaxes further, and Arthur holds him up as not to sink under the water. _Poor kid_ , Arthur thinks, only eight and already having the weight of guilt on his shoulders, seeing his mother die, believing he could've done more, "You know, Eliza would be so proud of you?"

"Really?" Isaac speaks against his skin, tilting his head so he can look up at Arthur. Arthur nods earnestly, placing a hand on Isaac's cheek comfortingly, Isaac blinks as water slides into his eyes, but he looks hopefully up at Arthur. 

"She'd be _so_ proud, so happy you made it this far and that you're such a good kid," Arthur smiles as Isaac slowly resolves, "She loved you loads, Isaac, Would be so happy to know you're well,"

"I love her too," Isaac says quietly and Arthur smiles through the ache in his chest, and after a moment, he shudders and says, "I'm getting cold," 

"Wanna head back?" Arthur asks and Isaac nods, pulling away from him and standing unevenly on the rocks, "Alright, come on, let's head back,"


End file.
